Unpredictable

Mintae slipped out onto the terrace to avoid his friends and pressed the call button.

“Uh—”

–Report.

The voice that came through before he could even finish greeting was cold and clipped.

Every nerve in Mintae’s body went taut, and he straightened his posture.

“Y-Yes…!

He was waiting in front of the humanities building during lunch today. It looks like he’s memorized Jaeyoung’s timetable…”

Mintae kept talking for quite a while.

Nothing came from the other end of the line.

With nothing more to add, the pressure bore down on him.

–There’s something you need to do.

“Yes! Tell me!”

The words came after a brief silence, and Mintae stiffened as he answered.

He wanted to say that he’d already done plenty for him.

But he couldn’t say that to the man on the other end of the phone.

Mintae carved every word he heard into his mind, then glanced uneasily at Jaeyoung with trembling eyes.

A woman who had just boarded the subway quietly scanned the interior.

A nuisance of a man was sprawled across the priority seats, snoring loudly as if he were lying down at home.

His hair was tangled, impossible to tell when he’d last washed it.

The collar of his plain white T-shirt was blackened with grime.

It looked like he’d smell awful if she got any closer.

The woman moved as far away from him as possible and sat down.

‘Why does someone like that even carry something like this?
Does he think that makes him a real **Business Administration major?’

Her gaze flicked toward the book placed beside him.

On the top of the cover, written as if for display, were the words:

“Class of 2010, Gil Seongpil.
**University, Department of Business Administration.”

She turned her head away, thinking he was the exact kind of person she never wanted to deal with.

“Young people these days—what do you think you’re doing?!
Get up at once!”

Not long after, a sudden shout rang out.

The few passengers inside turned to look.

It was coming from Seongpil’s seat.

An elderly man, his back bent nearly in half, was tapping Seongpil’s leg with his cane.

“Ah, seriously.
I was finally sleeping well.”

Seongpil muttered in a phlegmy, unpleasant voice.

“What’s the big deal just because you’re old…
There are plenty of other seats…”

He shot the old man a rude glance and kept grumbling.

The subway was so quiet that no one could miss it.

“What did you say?!
Where did such a disrespectful brat come from—!”

The old man raised his cane high over his head.

His energy was shockingly vigorous.

“Oh—oh crap! I—I need to get off here!”

Sensing danger, Seongpil scrambled off the subway.

Anyone could tell how forced the act was.

“Damn it.
I finally come out for once and this kind of crap happens.”

His hurried steps gradually slowed.

The sound of the subway rushing away echoed behind him.

Seongpil let out a breath of relief.

“What kind of kid calls a senior out at this hour…”

But there was no real irritation in his voice.

“If I go, Jaeyoung will be there too.”

“He said they’re best friends.”

If anything, he sounded excited.

“Hm hm hm~”

Humming as he climbed the stairs, Seongpil’s gaze suddenly landed on someone ahead.

A woman wearing a short skirt.

He quietly scanned the area.

There weren’t many people around.

Still humming, he pulled out his smartphone.

He tried to act casual, but his attention kept slipping, his movements stuttering.

Sensing something off, the woman glanced back.

Seongpil didn’t notice.

Just a little more.
Just a little.

His body kept leaning forward.

“Mister!
You just took a picture of me, didn’t you?!”

The woman snapped sharply.

Seongpil quickly turned off his phone and put on a bored expression.

“Why would I take a picture of you?
I don’t even know you.”

He was confident in playing dumb.

He’d done it plenty of times before.

The woman scanned the surroundings with suspicious eyes.

But there was no one who could help her.

“If you’re that worried, don’t wear a skirt.”

“You’re basically showing everything and making a fuss…”

She was certain, but without proof, she couldn’t say anything.

Watching her tremble, Seongpil felt a surge of exhilaration.

It was close to the time of the last train, and the area was sparsely populated.

The woman must have felt it too.

With an uneasy expression, she turned sharply and started walking.

Seongpil followed her quickly.

She was a junior, and he’d called her out late anyway.

Being a little late wouldn’t matter.

He could hear her breathing grow faster.

If he stretched out his arm now, he could touch her.

With a deep smile, Seongpil reached out.

In an instant, his vision went black.

He collapsed without making a sound.

Someone appeared behind him and caught his falling body.

The woman, unaware of anything, hurried away.

“Good thing you’re trash through and through.”

The man who had been holding Seongpil let go and sneered.

“So?”

“This should be enough to help, right?”

He turned to look behind him.

A shadow nodded.

Ding-dong—

An elderly couple who had woken up early shuffled into the living room at the sound of the doorbell.

“That brat Seongpil.”

“Did he finally stumble home after drinking himself stupid?”

“If it’s him, he can open the door himself.”

“What’s so special that he’s ringing the bell?”

The wife came out of the kitchen, wiping her wet hands as she scolded.

Their voices held no concern, only annoyance.

“There’s a package.”

The husband opened the door, looked around at the empty hallway, and came back holding a small box.

“At this hour?”

The wife frowned in confusion.

It didn’t look like a misdelivered package.

The address and recipient name were clearly theirs.

“It’s not dangerous, right?”

The husband peeled off the loosely taped seal.

Inside was a brand-new smartphone.

“What is this?”

“Are you changing your phone?”

“I just changed it not long ago.”

“There are photos here.”

Every single one showed their son, Seongpil.

Angry.
Terrified.

“There’s a letter.”

Since the husband couldn’t read without a magnifying glass, the wife picked it up.

“It says he’s at a remote hermitage.”

“A hermitage?”

For a brief moment, they wondered if their son had finally decided to straighten up and study properly.

Then—

“So he touched someone he shouldn’t have again.”

“Oh dear.
We should’ve locked him up and taught him properly long ago…”

With a tone that said of course, the wife kept reading.

The husband, his face twisting the same way, snatched the letter from her.

“Let me see!”

It said Seongpil had offended someone he never should have touched.

As punishment, he was confined to a hermitage.

The nearest village from the mountaintop took three days to reach on foot.

A caretaker would visit once every two weeks to restock food.

“It says we can see him if we turn this on.”

The husband picked up the smartphone.

There was only one app on the screen.

“Oh—this is him.”

The video showed Seongpil staring blankly up at the sky.

“There’s an address too.”

“What should we do?”

The wife pointed to the address at the end of the letter.

After a moment of thought, the husband sighed.

“He’ll just cause trouble if he comes back.”

“At least there, he can’t do anything else.”

“If he’s bored, maybe he’ll study.”

“Leave him.”

They’d raised him like a precious jewel, only for him to drink constantly, cause incidents, and harass other people’s daughters.

This wasn’t killing him.

And if they wanted, they could check on his condition.

“Let’s just think of it as him finding work far away.”

Their expressions grew strangely refreshed, as if old grime had been scrubbed away.

When Jaeyoung came back into the bedroom after showering, Saheon was already fully dressed to go out.

“At this hour?”

“Where are you going all of a sudden?”

“A dungeon broke out in Aranshi.”

Jaeyoung frowned.

Dungeons weren’t sentient, and they didn’t run on schedules.

But appearing right after Saheon had finished getting ready for bed felt excessive.

“When will you be back?”

“You know it’s unpredictable.”

“Go to sleep first.”

Saheon tapped Jaeyoung’s head out of habit and left.

Jaeyoung stared blankly at the closed front door, then rubbed the back of his neck.

Saheon being home didn’t mean they talked constantly.

But now that he was gone, the silence felt suffocating.

“Maybe I’ll use the computer for a bit.”

He said it out loud on purpose, climbed onto the bed with his laptop so he could sleep whenever he got tired.

“Let’s see if there’s anything to watch.”

As he browsed a paid streaming site, something caught his eye.

An explicit thumbnail. A blunt title.

Jaeyoung held his breath and listened.

The penthouse occupying an entire floor was naturally silent.

With a small smile, he pressed play.

After a dull buildup, an illogical love scene appeared.

Focused on the screen, his hand drifted downward.

Warm, humid heat immediately enveloped his fingers.

Soft skin met his touch.

“Haah…”

Jaeyoung exhaled a wet breath and turned onto his side.

The laptop slid from his legs onto the blanket.

“Hngh…”

His palm burned hot, sweat breaking out across his body.

Sparks flew through his head with every movement.

But that was all.

‘Is it because it’s been too long?’

He didn’t do this often to begin with.

And it was his first time since coming to this house.

Licking his lips, Jaeyoung focused on the sensation.

His body twisted, nose burying into the pillow.

A scent that wasn’t his own filled his senses.

He thought of large, hot hands.

“Ah… hyung…”

Without realizing it, he called the owner of that scent.

“Yeah.”

A response that should never have been there came from behind him.

The heat in his blood froze instantly.

Jaeyoung didn’t dare turn around and squeezed his eyes shut.

‘I’m asleep.’

‘This is sleep-talking.’

Dreaming about Saheon was strange enough, but he just wanted to avoid facing him in this situation.

‘Why did I do that…’

It felt wrong to use Saheon as material.

Confusing that it had to be him.

Jaeyoung fought the urge to kick the blankets off.

Through barely opened eyes, he saw the flesh-filled screen.

Carefully, he slipped his arm out from under the covers and closed the laptop.

“You plan on continuing like that?”

Saheon’s voice came again from behind him.

He sounded like he knew Jaeyoung was awake.

Jaeyoung desperately pretended not to hear.

‘I need to shower again…’

Whether it was fortunate or not, darkness finally swallowed him.